Chapter Three- First Assignment

Your enemy is always alive until he draws his last breath. If you leave him for dead and he does not die but attacks you with more ferocity, you will be unprepared. You must always be wary for dying does not mean dead and shouldn't be able to attack does not mean is not able to attack; Ohtar's second lesson after the creed. For three days and three nights, Ohtar had pushed her to her limits and beyond, forcing her to attack him when she could barely stand. No rest, no relaxation; the only certainty was death.

Brona did a cautious back flip off of Legolas, her blade drawn still just in case he should choose to attack her. She kept a respectfully cautious distance between them as she noticed Thranduil come sweeping out of the king's quarters. He came to a sudden stop as his son stood up, holding his hand to his neck. When Legolas pulled away there was the barest amount of blood on his hands. He looked up to glare at her, only to realize that his friends were glaring at him. He gestured to her defensively, but they continued to glare.

"She would have killed me if you weren't standing here watching her," Legolas hissed.

"Is that what you know or what you think?" Aragorn asked, venom lacing his every word. "She apologized to Arwen earlier for putting a knife to her throat. She could have killed the both of us, left us for dead and moved on to you, but she didn't. When the guards were distracted, trying to keep her away from me, she easily could have come after you. She didn't. What kind of assassin wouldn't use her every available advantage to kill her mark? One seeking redemption."

Thranduil placed his hands on his son's shoulders, forcing him to look up. "Have I not always told you that there is good in all things, my son? She was an elf destined to be a warrior once and that path was stolen from her. Now she has the skills to be so much more than just another warrior. Would you steal that path from her, too, just because she did terrible things in the name of love?"

Legolas lowered his eyes, feeling very much like a little elfling. He couldn't help but feel that she was hiding something from them, simply by the way she refused to meet anyone's eyes. The only time she did, they were either cold, emotionless orbs or, recently, filled with anger. How someone devoid of all emotion could love was beyond him, but, if she really had been killing for so many years just for her sister, it was easy to see how devoted she was.

Thranduil removed his hands, having successfully gotten his son thinking, and turned to Brona. "I thought I had lost you, elleth," he whispered softly.

Brona dropped to one knee, her head bowed. "Lord Thranduil," she whispered, reverance in her voice.

"You needn't bow to me, Brona," Thranduil said, kneeling beside her. "You are a servant of Gondor now; a protector to the king of men."

"Swear an oath of fealty," Legolas said suddenly. "Swear an oath to Aragorn and I will never question your motives again."

"There is something I must do first if we are to perform this ruse," Brona said as she rose.

"What is that?"

"Ohtar long ago connected his mind to mine. I have been able to block the connection for some time, but he uses it to determine proof of death. If I am to get my sister, I must provide proof of death for the prince."

"You intend to use the Hirshow Poison?" Thranduil asked.

"Yes, but I must make it look like I drowned him. That is the manner of death set forth in the contract."

"Wait, wait; what is the Hirshow Poison?" Legolas asked incredulously.

"It is a plant based poison that mimics death right down to the bluish tint to your lips and eye lids. It takes an hour to take effect and the antidote takes another hour to take effect. It should be no longer than two and a half hours total for the whole process," Brona said softly.

"How do you intend to make it look like you drowned me?"

"I'll give you the poison. Fifteen minutes before the full effect takes over, draw yourself a bath. I then proceed to 'drown' you after I've opened up the link. I'll provide him with proof of death and walk out while your father administers the antidote!" Brona said excitedly. "This is the first good, organized plan I've had in awhile, so I'm sorry if I seem a little happy."

"That will be sufficient for getting your sister out?" Aragorn asked.

"It's the promised price for the prince's death."

"And how do you close out the link entirely?"

"I'll sever it after I've gotten my sister. I'll have to leave directly after we 'kill' the prince. It wouldn't do to linger. I'll come right back, though, I promise," Brona said, a kind of happiness filling her enough that she floated on air, so to speak.

"Should I have the guards put on a chase?" Aragorn offered, a smile playing on his lips.

"Probably. And you should probably have them searching for me the day of. Ohtar told me to stay here if I wasn't discovered, so he'll find it suspicious if I come back and there have been no warning signs."

"What makes you think he'd know if you hadn't been discovered?" Legolas asked, intrigued.

"I'm not the only assassin he has. I'm the most skilled because I bear no loyalty or alligeance to him, therefore I've been able to expand my skill sets whereas others would not defy him."

The next day, hundreds of miles away in the blue mountain range in the northern Shire, Ohtar Balario of the Greenwood elves found the link between his star assassin and himself unfogging quickly. He could catch snatches of conversation between her and the prince, the prince who had long ago robbed him of any chances he might have had with the assassin he had trained. Thranduil had promised his assassin to his son before Ohtar had had the chance to negotiate a dowry for the girl.

"What's it like in Mirkwood?"

"It's beautiful, but I'm certain it can't compare with the Shire, m'lady."

Ohtar could catch an image in his mind of the two of them, robed, headed to the public bathing room. It was late, and they could both tell the bathing pools were empty. As the fog cleared, Ohtar smiled. She had met the prince at the gates and they had struck up a conversation on the way up the tower. She had offered to accompany him to the baths like the innocent little girl she was. In Ohtar's mind, a thousand images of the prince forcing himself on her took over, and he shot a warning across their link.

He is an elf, yes, but even elves are capable of great evil. Do not let your guard down.

I know, Ohtar.

Ohtar watched calmly as she waited until he had sunk into the baths before taking off her robe, revealing her to be garbed entirely in black. She crept up behind him, carefully making no noise. Silently, she shoved his head under the water, just as the contract had provided. She brought him up slightly once, and Ohtar assumed that she would not have the guts or the strength to hold him down. He did not see the prince tip his head calmly back, despite his thrashing arms, and take a deep breath of air, holding it. When he went limp, she pulled him out of the water and checked his pulse.

It is done.

With the link successfully closed off, Brona called in Aragorn and Thranduil, who were carrying the small bottle of antidote. Silently, she checked his pulse again. It was very faint, but existent, meaning that if you weren't desperately searching for it or if you hadn't known the effect of the poison you would have missed it. Brona was both desperately searching for it and knew the effect of the poison. Although her performance had a practiced finesse to it, panic had been brewing in her mind as she worried over whether he would live and whether she would be caught.

"Go, Brona," Thranduil said softly. "Or this shall have been for naught."

"His heart stopped for about thirty seconds before it started again. I think he thought I wasn't going to let him up for air," she said as she pulled herself off the floor. "Tell him I'm sorry I couldn't stay for him to wake up. I'll thank him in person when I get back."

No one in Minas Tirith would see Brona for a full three months.

"Why would she lie, Aragorn?" Arwen asked softly, her voice carrying with it a small ounce of fear. "Think about it for a second; we saw what she could do when angry or provoked. We observed enough of her in the two days she was here to see that. If her master's spies caught her performing for us, it would have been too easy to report the observations."

"Legolas was certain she was hiding something. Come to think of it, it looked like she was, but I was too scared to push."

"Aragorn! We need your help!" Legolas cried, bursting into the room. His hands and arms were covered in a thick layer of blood.

"What happened? Are you hurt?"

"They discovered Brona outside the gates on a horse. Her sister was with her, but they're both badly wounded. They need your skill."

Aragorn headed silently and swiftly out to the Houses of Healing, rolling his sleeves up as he went.

"Describe their injuries for me."

"We couldn't find any visible injuries and Brona was brandishing a sword at us every time we came near her sister. Sein was able to describe what happened for us, however. Brona came back to the Blue Mountain stronghold and demanded Sein be released. As soon as she was what she believed was a safe distance outside the mountains, she snapped the bond between her and Ohtar. He, according to Sein, howled with rage and came after them faster than even a warg. Brona made it all the way to the Gap of Rohan before he caught them. She refused to talk about the rest," Legolas said. "I can only assume, from what she described when we spoke of her allegiances, that he tortured them and left them for dead, which defies logic."

"Why?"

"Brona's second lesson; dying does not mean dead and shouldn't be able to fight doesn't mean is not able to fight," Legolas whispered. "We talked a lot before she opened her link to him as we were walking to the baths. She was hoping to relax me and it worked very well."

"She has a story-teller's voice."

"Legolas!" came a small voice. Pippin ran around the corner, and the elf stooped to pick him up lightly. They were walking too quickly for Pippin to keep up and both man and elf knew it.

"What is it, little one?"

"That woman in the Houses of Healing; her name is Dunmhari. What happened to her?"

"Her name is Brona, Pippin," Legolas said. "And we don't know what happened to her."

"I don't know what you guys saw but the red haired woman's name is Dunmhari. The other one is Sein," Pippin said darkly.

"How do you know her, Pippin?" Aragorn asked.

"She comes to the Green Dragon sometimes. We've talked a lot about stuff. She's a healer too; this one time, a little girl was carried in by her dad. She'd fallen out of a tree and broke her arm. Dunmhari set it and everything. She even came to check on the little girl. Of course, she's an elf, so naturally she's very caring but... why are you looking at me like I'm crazy?"
"Three months ago, that woman came to us. She told us that she was an assassin who had been assigned to kill Legolas. She said her name was Brona. She put on a ruse to make her master think she'd killed Legolas so she could get her sister. She left, and just now came back."

"An... an assassin?" Pippin asked softly. "But... she was so kind. She treated me for..."

Pippin trailed off, causing Aragorn to pause. Looking into the young hobbit's eyes, he understood what it was. "War trauma?" he asked softly.

Pippin nodded. "She was always gentle but firm. She made me lay off the ale for a whole three months and then, she would get me to talk about all of it... the journey, it's effect on me, all that stuff. She cared for me, even if she was slow to trust."

"Every person has to have a vent; a place to show emotions they would show no one else. I think you may have been hers. The fact that she trusted you enough to show you those emotions tells me that you are very dear to her Pippin."

"I don't think she ever lied to me, Aragorn. She refused to talk about what she did. She'd tell me where she went, but never what she did while she was there. She'd even talk about her home. She promised to show me it one day. She said it was in the mountains and she still had to clean out some evil things, but she'd take me there when she was done."

"I'm going to need your help, Pippin, but you must do exactly what I say. Can you do that?"

Pippin nodded resolutely and Legolas sat him down on Brona's bed.

Three hours later, both Sein and Brona were tightly bandaged and doing well. Sein was awake and eating vigorously, but Aragorn was still hovering at Brona's bed side. Pippin sat at the end, tears in his eyes. He kept reaching out to touch her and yanking his hand back before he could, afraid of upsetting her. Aragorn had easily pieced together the torture the sisters had endured. Brona had a broken wrist, a fractured ankle, six missing fingernails, extensive second and third degree burns covering half her body, a great deal of cuts ranging from superficial to down to the bone, and, if Aragorn hadn't missed his guess, she had been raped as well. Sein was much better off, although she had still been wounded. She had a few fractured ribs, some first and second degree burns, and some deep cuts that would have bled out had they been left unattended. It appeared, however, that Brona had been able to stop the worst of the bleeding long enough for her to ride to Minas Tirith. What wounds had already healed over, it was hard to tell.

"Pippin, it's alright. You can touch her," Aragorn said softly.

"I don't know if she'd want me to. Whenever she was around me, she kept a kind of a cushion around her. If she ever went to hug me or even touch my shoulder, she'd hesitate."

"I think you're the only one she trusts enough to touch her right now, Pippin, and I need her awake. I didn't find any damage to her skull, but I need her awake to be sure."

Nodding once, Pippin crawled up beside her and sat himself squarely on her right side, the side that had the least burn damage. "Dunmhari... Wake up," he said softly, touching her shoulder. He shook her lightly, trying not to jostle any of her injuries. Without warning, her arms came up, wrapping aorund Pippin. She pulled him down beside her like a pillow and curled over him.

"Won't let him touch you. Won't let him hurt you. No worries. Safe in city," she mumbled.

"Brona; can you hear me?" Aragorn asked, sitting down.

Her eyes snapped open and she tried to sit up. With surprising force, the hobbit in her arms shoved her back down. "You're not allowed to move," Pippin hissed. "You're hurt and I had to help and you tear out any of the stitches and I'll box your ears just like you did to me when I fell out of the tree onto those rocks."

Brona smiled weakly before kissing the hobbit chastely on the forehead. She then diverted her attention to Aragorn. "Is Sein alright? I tried to stop the bleeding but my wrist... I had to work with my left hand, so the bandaging wasn't very tight."

"You did well, Brona," Aragorn said softly. "How much do you remember?"

"Everything. He... he was going to do what he did to me to my sister... she's already been through so much... I couldn't let him get to her. I had to keep him occupied," Brona said, dropping her eyes slightly. When she returned them to Aragorn's, her gaze was firey. "She is alright, right?"

"Sister, worry about yourself for once!" Sein called from her bed between mouthfuls.

"She's quite the spitfire. I can see how you're related," Aragorn chuckled.

"And... Legolas... he... he was alright, wasn't he? I... I didn't hold him under too long?" she asked, unconciously pulling Pippin tighter.

"I'm fine," Legolas said, pulling up a chair by her bedside.

"You won't be for long. He ripped through my mind and pulled all my memories. He knows you're alive," Brona said softly. "I couldn't stop him. I was already beginning to lose conciousness; it took little to tear down my defenses. If he had tried earlier I could have kept him out... I'm... I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It took courage to defy him; courage I didn't know an assassin could have. My father was right; you would have been a great warrior."

"What were you hiding before you left, Brona? There was something you weren't telling us," Aragorn said softly, reaching out to brush a stray hair from across her eyes.

"I... I don't know that I should be the one to tell you," Brona said softly, looking at Legolas. She heard the door burst open and saw Thranduil sprint in. He stopped, taking in the fact that both elleths were safe and out of harm's way. When he saw the look on her face, he knew what they had been talking about. Smiling, he nodded encouragingly. "When your father bonded to your mother, he came to my father. He told them that he wanted... wanted me to... to bond with you, although he knew not when. They had just negotiated the terms of my stay at the palace when... when Sein and I..."

Legolas turned questioning eyes to his father, who smiled softly, almost nostalgically. "I had the hope that you would find her to your liking when you came along. She would have made a great warrior, and I would have invited the best teachers to train her. Then, she could have trained you. And, I hoped, you would fall in love. I wasn't going to press you into it, but I wanted to be sure that she would not be taken when you were of age."

Brona's eyes drifted downward, and she, too, wore a nostalgic smile. "When my father told me, I would spend hours in the trees around my home imagining what you would look like. I always thought you would look like your father, but... I imagined you fairer. I pictured you as beautiful, maybe a strong archer or swordsman. I hoped you would love me."

Legolas's eyes snapped to hers, and she flushed all the way to her ears.

"Until three months ago, I had forgotten all about that promise."

Aragorn, Pippin, and Thranduil shared a knowing smile before they headed over to sit with Sein. Brona's eyes widened as they headed away, and she wanted to scramble away from Legolas. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she felt herself sink into the mattress, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Do you still believe in that promise?" Legolas asked.

Brona's eyes snapped open and she looked to him, pulling herself up onto her elbows. "Why? I'm a killer, remember."

"What you did in the past was in the name of freedom and love. And, regardless, I've killed as well. That, in all honesty, matters little. My only fear was that you would kill me, and you didn't. Not completely, anyway," Legolas chuckled. "You did what you had to do to survive and there is no shame in that."

"Just because I killed in the name of freedom does not mean I did not enjoy the prospect of holding life and death in my hands and it does not mean you should forget that I am little more than a weapon," Brona said darkly. "I would not wish to hurt you."

Legolas pulled himself onto her bed, causing her to shrink away just a little. He knew he was invading her comfort zone, but he did not wish her to waste away into nothingness because of such thoughts. He leaned forward, pinning her to the pillows with his proximity. "You would not hurt me. It would hurt me more to hear such bleak words from someone so beautiful."

Brona's eyes widened slightly. She had only been called beautiful by Ohtar, and that had been meant to anger her. Her eyes drifted to his steely blues as she felt her breath leave her. He was close, so much more so than he had been seconds ago, and all she would have to do would be to lean up slightly, and she could claim his lips for her own. Before she could puzzle out what he was planning, Legolas pressed his lips firmly against hers. It was a chaste kiss, meant only to test the waters, but Brona felt her heart leap and she could do little else but kiss back.

Legolas pulled away, smiling. "If I allow you to get too raucous, I shall be unceremoniously kicked out by your healer," he said softly. Brona returned his smile before scooting over and rolling onto her side, a blatant invitation to invade her space further by lying down. The young prince obliged, and Brona curled up in his embrace, safe and sound.

"Your first assignment as a member of my guard; get well," Aragorn whispered as he closed the door behind him, smiling as his patients both fell asleep.

AN: Ok, so war trauma, PTSD, whatever you want to call it. Maybe Pip had it. Maybe he didn't. For my purposes, he did!